


rugby

by hittingdeck



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Deaf Character, Fluff, Gay, M/M, Rugby, deaf rich, writer jake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 04:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12450114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hittingdeck/pseuds/hittingdeck
Summary: jake thinks rugby is stupidrich is stupid





	rugby

**Author's Note:**

> this is shit lol

 jake dillinger was a well rounded dude. he wrote nearly constantly, working on a fiction novel, as well as being involved in sports, having a job, and maintaining his relationships with his friend and boyfriend. he prided himself in his intelligence, and logical thinking.   
  
jake played nearly every sport the school offered. he was a flyer in swimming, a defenceman in football, forward in basket ball, center in soccer, third base man for baseball, played singles in tennis, did high jump and sprints. thats literally every sport, except one.   
  
rugby. jake, as an intelligent young man, knew how fucking rough rugby was, and in wanting to keep his head intact, he didn't play it. he thought it was a fucking stupid sport. this is the main reason rich played it.  
  
honestly, rich kinda hated sports. the squip had him working out for an hour a day, and now that fucker was gone. instead of lifting, rich spent his afternoons stoned with michael, knee deep in dunkin doughnuts and taco bell. however, he kinda felt like he was the reacher in the relationship.   
  
rich wasnt a confident dude. standing at five four, he was shorter than like...everyone, he wasn't all that smart, he wasn't in activities, his skin looks like a quilt, had a lisp, and he was nearly deaf. so when jake said that he thought rugby was stupid, the first thing that popped into his brain was "oh man, it'll make me look cooler."  
  
the try out went well, practise was great, but now he was so tense he could shit a diamond. rich was shaking like a gazebo built by a dad that was 'sure what he was doing.'  
  
 his team mates trickled in and out of the changeroom, most getting into their gear and going out to talk to friends. rich was stationary, ass sat firmy on the bench. jake was leaned against the wall near him, pen flowing as he jotted down a concept.  
  
rich was in his rugby uniform, and felt fucking stupid. he was going to get hurt. he knew it. he clinked his cletes together, the metal bottoms making a sound. jake leaned in front of him, speaking just loud enough rich could hear it.  
  
"don't overthink it. sports aren't about thinking. think and you get scared, you get scared, you get stupid. you get stupid, you get hurt. and you can't get hurt, i have a reservation at olive garden for tonight." jake smiled and kissed his cheek, ignoring the groans of some of the Straights in the changeroom. rich was too deaf to hear them anyway.   
  
as jake pulled away, rich yanked his journal away from him.   
"this is being confiscated so you don't forget about the game and more importantly, me." rich slid it into his gym bag. jake laughed "never." he looked up "your coach is coming in." he gave a wide smile to rich, and ran to stand next to the coach.   
  
he wrung his hands out and finger gunned at rich, and began signing the pre game speech. rich, being nearly deaf after the fire, needed hearing aids. he decided not to risk the cost of the tech, so he wasn't wearing them to games, and left them in jake's car.  
  
the speech was the typical "give it your all" type of pre game and they were off to the races. rich stood up, knees nearly knocking together. jake ran over to him and kissed him gently. "good luck. wear your mouth guard or ill kill you."   
  
do you remember being in first grade and looking up to the sixth graders and being like "holy shit they're tall and intimidating"? thats how life is as a short guy in sports. the second rich hit the terf it was clear that he was the smallest one there, which, by the way, is a hit to his self comfidence.   
  
he ran a couple laps and then streched, his team doing the same. the other team was doing a a proper warm up, which scared rich a bit. their team was totally under prepared for the match.  
  
rich fell in when he heard a faint whistle, and stood with the rest of the team. he swallowed a bit and looked to the filling stands when the coach told him to start the game, fiddling with his jersey. he ran out into the feild into the staggered position, and when the whistle blew, he ran like a bat out of hell.  
  
by the middle of the game, rich was ready to die. his ribs hurt, his lungs were sore, and he was so god damn tired. he sat with the team on the sidelines for a short break before the ref blew the whistle again, and he was shoved back onto the terf.   
  
he set up behind the scrum, arms up and ready to catch the ball. it was thrown back to him after a moment, and he started running. his cletes dug in.   
  
one-two-one-two-one-two  
  
not a single person in his path.  
  
one-two-one-two-one-two  
  
fourty-thirty yards to go.  
  
one-two-one-  
  
he was grabbed from behind, a knee going straight to his spine. he dropped the ball and crumbled to the ground. he heard a scream. he was almost sure it was his own. the game kept going on, the move deemed legal- because it technically was.  
  
rich couldn't feel his legs. his chest heaved and his arms shook as he tried to hold himself up, but they were too weak from the rapidly appearing bruises. eventually, the other team scored a point, and his scrum captain ran to him. he let himself go limp, and he was picked up like a rag doll.   
  
by the time they had gotten to the sideline, jake was already there. dumbass ran from the stands to see him. the scrum captain gently placed him down, and jake slapped his chest.  
  
"don't scare me like that, jackass!" jake hugged rich tightly. rich rubbed his leg, feeling slowly coming back.  
"fuck man, people are mean." jake laughed.   
"at least you got a good couple points in." he sat beside rich and swung a protective arm over him.  
  
the game ended with a narrow win, and jake carried rich to the handshake, and then back to the changeroom. he helped him out of the gear, and helped wipe his face clean of dirt and grime from the game. rich said his goodbyes to the team, and climbed on jake's back.  
  
"do you still have your wheelchair?"  
"yeah, why?"  
"olive garden. you promised me olive garden."  


**Author's Note:**

> plz comment my nut needs busting


End file.
